


The Sound Inside a Shell

by alice_in_potterland



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1849357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alice_in_potterland/pseuds/alice_in_potterland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Voldemort meant little to us then. It was just a name our frightened parents tossed around. They had grown up during Grindelwald's reign - knew nothing but fear. They were paranoid. To us, fear was tangible only in the moments spent considering another loss to Slytherin on the pitch."</p><p>Wedged comfortably between two eras of turmoil, the students of Hogwarts never imagined they'd go down fighting. Life at school was defined by teenage rebellion, tough classes, and nail-bitingly exciting Quidditch games. Grindelwald's defeat was news of the past, but some told of a new dark wizard on the rise by the name of Lord Voldemort...</p><p>But for Alice Emerson and Lily Evans, for Potter and Black and the rest of their class, that was simply irrelevant. The outside world stopped at Hogwarts' gates until tragedy in their fifth year brought it violently to the forefront.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Another Day at the Office

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first installment of a trilogy. I expect each installment to be between 20 and 30 chapters long.

August, present day  
Early afternoon  
Ministry of Magic

Harry Potter drummed his fingers on his desk. He sighed, pulled his fingers through his unmanageable black hair, and pushed up his glasses. Oblivious to a loud crash from somewhere in the room behind him, Harry continued to stare at the wall two feet in front of his face. Years after the battle of Hogwarts, after the defeat of Voldemort, the darkest wizard of all time, after marriage and the birth of three children, Harry found he could hardly survive a day at the office. True, Auror work was challenging. It usually demanded much from him and almost never failed to be interesting, dangerous, or at the very least, a reliable source of entertainment. But recently, the wizarding community had entered a period of harmoniousness in which Aurors had very little to do. Lately, they spent most of their days in their office chairs in their small, claustrophobic cubicles and filled in paperwork. Boring, investigative stuff - little more than common secretary work. Harry was not normally one to complain, but truth is, he was bored and suffering from a serious case of cabin fever.

What he needed was a worthwhile distraction, a task that would allow him to leave the office temporarily to explore a bit. He gazed at the pictures on his desk. A wedding picture of him and Ginny echoed the wedding photo of his parents next to it. Albus grinning sheepishly as he clutched his first wand. Lily smiling broadly, displaying her first lost tooth. James with Harry's niece and nephew, Hugo and Rose Weasley, playing a game of Exploding Snap. A picture of the Order before Sirius died, and beside it, a picture of the original Order. He smiled wistfully at his parents, waving to him from the picture frame.

Scanning over the faces, Harry sighed. So many good people had died fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Several of the witches and wizards in the picture fell to dark wizards at the battle of Hogwarts, if not before. Most died before Harry himself was born, some as soon as a few months after the picture was taken. His eyes passed over the picture for what must have been the umpteenth time. James, Lily, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, Snape, the Longbottoms, Wormtail...he stopped.

Pulling the picture from his desk, Harry peered closer at the photo. A face he had never noticed before beamed up at him, that of a small auburn-haired young woman. She was standing between Alice Longbottom and Hagrid, almost completely hidden behind Hagrid's backside. Sirius stood diagonally behind her and - Harry squinted into the picture - it looked like their hands were joined behind Alice Longbottom's left thigh. He held the photo sideways, and as the figures pitched angrily to the side of the frame, he saw two linked arms pop into view, taut with the effort of holding on to each other.

 _That's strange,_ Harry thought, _I wonder how I never saw her before. No one ever mentioned her._ Harry's heart sank as he realized no one was alive who would know who she was.

Except maybe...

Harry pushed himself up from his seat, leaving a considerable stack of paperwork untouched on his desk. The nearest fireplace was down the hall next to the lift. Glancing to his left and right, Harry scanned the hallway for occupants - strictly speaking, he wasn't supposed to be Flooing for personal business. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder from a small bin next to the fireplace, Harry threw it into the fire and clearly enunciated, "Hagrid's hut." The flames burned higher, signaling clearance to travel.

Squeezing out of the fireplace, Harry heard a low chuckle from the far side of the room. "Haven' seen yeh in quite a while, Harry! Heard yeh comin'. Couldn' mistake yer coughin' if I tried." Harry grinned and allowed Hagrid to pull him into a hug, poking the edges of the photo's frame into Harry's ribs. It had been several years since Harry had visited Hagrid at his home. They met occasionally at the Leaky Cauldron for a drink, a particularly welcome treat after an uneventful day at the Ministry. Hagrid's beard, bushy as ever, sported a fair few more gray hairs.

Harry glanced around the room. Nothing had changed since the last time he'd seen it Hagrid invited him to sit down, but Harry declined. "I'm not officially supposed to be here, Hagrid, but I was wondering." He showed Hagrid the picture and pointed to the unidentified girl. "That woman standing next to you - I only just noticed her and realized I don't know who she is. I thought I might try to find her, if I could. Thank her or..." His voice trailed as Hagrid grabbed the picture from his hand.

"Oh, her." He scrutinized the picture with disapproval. "Tha's Alice Emerson. She was yer mum's bes' friend, back in their Hogwarts days. Disappeared from the Order after Sirius was sent ter Azkaban...worked at the Ministry las' I heard o' her." He handed the frame back to Harry with a frown. Harry's heart raced - if she'd worked at the Ministry, she would be easy to find; her name would be listed in an employee registry and Harry could contact her without leaving the Ministry offices. It was the perfect compromise: an adventure without the danger of being caught off duty.

Harry stayed and chatted with Hagrid for a few moments before he turned and made his way toward the fireplace.

"Thanks, Hagrid. I'm off - Leaky Cauldron next Thursday?" Harry offered, stepping back toward the fireplace. Hagrid's face fell. "I'll bring the family, too, if you'd like. The kids have missed you since school let out." Harry's children, James, Albus, and Lily, were favorites of Hagrid. He'd known them since they were born and treated them specially in his Care of Magical Creatures classes. Over the summer holiday, Harry was certain that Hagrid missed them also.

"I'll see yeh then, I s'ppose. Can' say no ter seein' my favorite students, now, could I?" Hagrid agreed, satisfied with the prospect of visiting the kids. It had been a while since he'd talked to Ginny, too. "Tell Ginny I said, 'hello'."

"I will." Harry gathered a fist full of Floo powder from an earthen jug on Hagrid's mantle and tossed it into the flames. "Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Headquarters." The flames flickered from bright orange to green. Harry stepped into the fireplace, and quickly waved at Hagrid before being swept into the Floo network.

Picture in hand, Harry hurried back to his cubicle, ignoring the stack on his desk which had grown even taller in his absence. A folded piece of paper flitted irritably above his head. Swiping it aside, Harry replaced the photo and bent down to open the bottom drawer of a small filing cabinet that tucked neatly under his desk. At the bottom of the drawer, buried under several files on notorious dark wizards that had long since been thrown into Azkaban, a thick dusty Ministry registry sat molding. Harry lifted the rubbish on top to dig the registry out. It contained detailed descriptions of each Ministry office and position and every rule and procedure of the Ministry. It also contained, at the very back past the indexes, a list of Ministry workers that contained everyone from custodians to the Minister himself, past and present, and was charmed to update itself every five minutes. Flipping to the "E"s, Harry scanned the list for "Emerson," hoping she hadn't married since the last time Hagrid spoke to her.

"Emerson, Aberman. Emerson, Aidan..." Harry murmured. "Ah, Emerson, Alice." His eyebrows shot up in surprise. She was still working at the Ministry! "Occupation: Unspeakable. Years of service: 1981 to present. Currently: In." Slamming the book closed, Harry replaced it in the drawer on top of the discarded files. His mind was consumed with a singular thought: Alice Emerson was in the Ministry, right now, at work. Harry grabbed the picture of the original Order again from his desk and hurried down the hall, careful to avoid eye contact with his coworkers.

His best friend, Ron, peeked over from his cubicle. "Harry, where're you - "

"Nowhere, Ron. Just heading to the loo."

"With that picture?" But Harry was already around the corner. Ron shook his head. "Some days..."

In the lift, Harry pressed the button for the eighth floor. He exited into the Atrium and made his way to another lift for the ninth level, the Department of Mysteries. His blood raced; he hadn't been this excited in weeks.

When the elevator jolted to a stop, Harry walked out into a plain, dark hallway. This place always gave him chills. So many horrible old memories plagued him. Taking a left, Harry approached the end of a particularly memorable corridor. The familiar black door loomed over him. The last time he'd seen Sirius was through that doorway.

He realized, with some embarrassment, that he didn't quite know what to do next. How would he find Alice from this point on? The Department of Mysteries was just that. Once he stepped through that door, he knew he'd find a circular room with twelve identical doors with no idea where to go from there. Harry took a steadying breath and knocked.

The witch that answered several minutes later looked ruffled and a bit aggravated. "What do you want?" she asked shortly, fist resting on her hip. Her wand was tucked behind her ear, and in her other hand she clutched a ladle covered in reddish brown sludge. Harry tried not to imagine what concoction she'd just been experimenting with.

"Um, I'm looking for Alice Emerson, ma'am." Harry held the photo behind his back.

Eying him suspiciously, the witch nodded and pulled the door open wider, moving aside to let Harry in. They were standing in the same circular room he'd had the misfortune of entering his fifth year at Hogwarts. It seemed like just yesterday and so long ago. That room had always had that strange effect on him, a disorienting nauseating feeling. Perhaps it was the reflection of blue flames flickering over the shiny floor that made one feel as though they were walking on water. "Right this way," she grunted, heading assuredly toward one of the doors to the left. She pushed it open.

Inside, a small room held about ten large desks. Only four were occupied. At the far end of the room, at a desk facing the wall, sat a slight, auburn-haired woman. She was hunched over some papers, and as Harry followed the witch closer to her, he saw that she was labeling a detailed map of a land Harry didn't recognize. The desk was illuminated by a bright lamp, and every word the woman wrote on the map faded into the texture of the paper, a magical effect Harry knew all too well.

"Emerson, you've got a visitor." Alice grunted and held up a finger. The witch with the ladle gestured to the chair next to Alice's desk and Harry sat down. He waited patiently for a few minutes while Alice worked. Finally, she looked up.

Her misty blue eyes blinked up at Harry, and it took a second for her to focus on him in the dim light of the room. When she realized who he was, her breath caught and her eyes immediately welled with tears. Within moments, she was sobbing. Harry sat with the picture on his lap feeling extremely awkward. Alice turned away and opened the top drawer of her desk.

Pulling a tissue out of the drawer, Alice wiped the tears from her nose and chin. Harry cleared his throat and readjusted his glasses on his nose, not quite sure what to say in the face of a crying stranger who may have been one of his parents' closest friends. "Um, I'm, er, Harry Potter. I think you knew my mum? Is this you?" He indicated the smiling young woman in the photo. The witch sitting before him looked remarkably similar, hardly changed but for the faint streaks of silver in her reddish-brown hair and thin lines in her forehead and corners of her eyes.

Alice gently held the photo with the tips of their fingers, as though it were a precious artifact. She nodded as she studied the photo, tears filling her eyes again. She stared at the faces in the picture before she finally spoke. Her voiced was hushed. "We were so young then. You..." She looked up at Harry's face and softly touched his cheek. The gesture reminded him of his mother-in-law, Molly Weasley. It was a protective, matronly touch, and he wondered what made her feel protective and matronly toward him. "You were just a baby. The son of my two best friends..." She choked on the last two words and lowered her eyes back to the photo.

Harry's blood pounded in his temples. This woman was his parents' best friend. She'd known them when they were alive, had gone to school with them, and knew him when he was born. "Could you...I mean, if it's not too hard. Could you maybe tell me about them?" Most importantly, she was here - now. She was his final chance to ask the questions he had never thought to ask Remus or Sirius when he was a boy.

She smiled tenderly and looked up into his eyes; Harry anticipated her next words, but she didn't say them. She didn't say, like everyone else from his childhood, that he had his mother's eyes.

Instead, with a twinkle in her eye that momentarily brought the young woman from the photo back to life, she settled in her chair, gingerly placed the picture on her desk, took a deep breath and began, "It was our fifth year when life really took hold of us..."


	2. Hope Comes Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "and you need someone to tell you  
> I'll be here when you want me  
> like the sound inside a shell..."
> 
> from "A Poem for People who are Understandably Too Busy to Read Poetry" by Stephen Dunn

September 1st, 1975  
Evening  
Great Hall

Alice Emerson absentmindedly picked at the chocolate éclair on her plate for a good two minutes before she noticed that it was, in fact, a chocolate éclair and not the crust of the pie she'd been eating moments before. She was so engrossed in conversation that the food had changed from main course to desert without her realizing it. She felt momentarily disappointed - she'd wanted to finish that pie - before she turned her attention back to the animated discussion across the desert-laden table.

James Potter and Sirius Black were going on about their summer adventures; it seemed Sirius had spent a great deal of time at James' house, which was unusual since Sirius' parents usually kept him under lock and key over the summer (according to his lamentations from Welcome Feasts of previous years.)

"Right, so Sirius said to her, he said 'Have you confessed your sins, my child?' And of course, she said 'Who said that?!'" James snorted with laughter and threw his voice into a squeaky falsetto, a terrible imitation of a woman's voice in Alice's opinion.

James and Sirius were notorious for using the Invisibility Cloak James inherited from his father to play silly pranks on poor, unsuspecting victims. James' unruly black hair flopped over his forehead as he pitched forward, clutching his stomach as he convulsed with laughter. Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor house ghost, floated overhead looking concerned until James sat back up to push his glasses back onto his nose, wheezing as he continued, "Then I said" A snort. "I said..."

A small cult following had gathered around the two pragmatic boys. Their talent for capturing people's interests often made them the topic of discussion whether or not they were physically present themselves. And if ever they had a story to tell, there were always classmates on hand to hear it. Tonight, sixth-year Emmeline Vance was especially enraptured.

Sirius took up the anecdote seamlessly. "He said, 'I have come proclaiming penitence...'" He clamped onto the shoulder of James' robe and bellowed, " '...and you've been a naughty, naughty girl!'" They exploded with riotous laughter, gulping for air, oblivious to the ruffled glares from several Ravenclaws at the table behind them. The Gryffindor table broke out into cheers and whistles. "She looked like she was going to cry or slap someone but couldn't decide where to aim!"

Alice's eyes crinkled with a smile as she took a sip from a stein of chilled butterbeer. Remus Lupin, one of Sirius' and James' best mates, stood up from his seat for Prefect call, raised an eyebrow at the two chortling boys, and shook his head. He raised his voice above the din of the hall.

"Prongs, that makes no sense. It's not even funny...and it's terribly rude, I might add, to say those sorts of things to women you don't even know..." His scolding faded as Sirius cast him an irritated, disapproving glance. James lifted a spoonful of his favorite strawberry ice cream with a smirk, and Remus hefted a noncommittal shrug. "Well, anyway, I'm off for Prefect call. Lily?"

Lily Evans, Alice's closest friend, threw one more blackberry into her mouth and sucked the black juice off her fingertips as she stood. "Yeah, I'm coming." Her wavy, dark red hair was pulled into a hasty ponytail, a loose tendril curling over one of her bright green eyes. She grinned mischievously at Alice, mouthed "Good luck", eyes flicking pointedly toward the two rowdy boys across the table, and turned to follow Remus toward the Head Boy and Girl, Hufflepuff Matthew Campbell and Slytherin Isabella Pearson, at the top of the Hall.

Alice turned to her classmate Sam Trent, a tall, friendly boy with thick tousled gold hair. Her mouth grew into a fabulous grin and Sam smiled back, locking his green-hazel eyes onto hers. They engaged in a staring contest for a brief moment, then broke their stares with defeated laughter. Rubbing her dry, itchy eyes, Alice opened her mouth to say "How was your summer?" but was cut off by a silence that fell across the Hall.

Headmaster Professor Dumbledore stood up to make his Welcoming Speech and Alice twisted around to face the Head table, aiming her attention at the stately gray-bearded man at the podium. Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House, sat just right of Dumbledore's empty seat and shot discreet glances toward the Gryffindor table, shrewdly noting which students whispered to one another during Dumbledore's welcome. Alice knew they would be given detention later if they weren't first years, who were understandably excited and couldn't help but to commiserate with wide-eyed observations, or seventh years, who had sat through enough Welcoming speeches to earn a stray comment or two.

"Welcome to a fresh new year..." Dumbledore's voice reverberated off the stone walls, and everyone's attention was on him. A young Hufflepuff giggled and was promptly shushed by the students around her. "...at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'd like to extend a special welcome to our new first years; I trust you will find Hogwarts to be a comfortable and enriching home-away-from-home. As for the rest of you, I hope your stomachs are full and fear that your summer brains may quite possibly be empty, yearning to be filled with knowledge and wizardry."

Alice and Sam began to play a silent game of "I Spy" using hand gestures, nods, and facial expressions while Dumbledore reminded the students of important and commonly-broken school rules. Afterward, everyone stood to sing the school song; Alice and Sam applauded as Sirius and James loudly bellowed their own lively and terribly off-key version of the song. Dumbledore delivered a brief set of announcements and concluded with, "This is going to be a positively delightful year, but like all good things, we must wait. Classes commence tomorrow, so be awake early to receive your schedules from your Heads of House. For now, goodnight!"

Dumbledore stepped down from the podium, and the entire Hall erupted into chaos. Prefects, who had been gathered in a patient group near the main door, attempted to corral students toward the exits, herding first years who were still staring at the table in wonderment, confused that the food disappeared during Dumbledore's welcome. Alice distinctly heard Remus shout, "No, no! _This_ way - no, those are Ravenclaws. We have separate dormitories."

She chuckled and turned toward the table again, noting that Peter Pettigrew - the fourth of James, Sirius, and Remus' group - had skillfully snatched some last bits of food off the table to squirrel away into the pockets of his robe, now bulging with cake slices and peppermints, before the food disappeared.

The rest of her fifth-year house-mates were still conversing; none showed any signs of moving from their seats. Only students from lower years were heading out of the Hall. James and Sirius whispered conspiratorially with Dorcas Meadowes - probably about the yearly Quidditch tryouts that were to take place later that month, while Sam chatted with Mary MacDonald and Amba Bhatti, gesturing wildly to punctuate each climax within his story, his eyes expressive and bright.

"Ready to go?" Alice asked Peter, her elbows crossed and rested nonchalantly on the table.

Peter glanced at the friends around him and shrugged. "Sure," he said, rising gingerly after Alice, careful not to crush the delicacies in his pockets. Once the other Gryffindors noticed the two standing, they lazily followed suit.

It was late and the weariness Alice accumulated throughout the busy day of traveling was catching up to her; her bones seemed to harden and become heavy, weighing her down as she trudged down hallways, up staircases, and through the portrait of the Fat Lady, and later, pulling her into the soft, familiar comfort of her bed in the 5th year girls' dorm in Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

September 2nd, 1975  
Early morning  
Gryffindor Tower

Alice turned over with a groan, pretending to be asleep. She ignored Lily's rough whispers and tried as hard as she could to ignore Lily's rough shaking. Her shoulder felt as though it were halfway out of its socket, but she kept her eyes closed. The morning sun spilled through the thick glass windows, reflecting off the lake and rippling over the soft folds in Alice's bedspread. After a few moments, Lily gave up whispering and started shouting.

"Alice, I know you're awake! You're a horrible actress. Quit being a prat and get up - McGonagall's downstairs with our schedules." With that, the redhead left Alice's bedside and disappeared into the stairwell, presumably to visit the loo to change into her school robes. Alice mumbled and pulled her comforter to her chin. The morning air was uncomfortably chilly, licking at her cheeks and ears. For a moment, Alice slipped back into sleep until a stern voice traveled up the stairs and through the open door.

"Ladies, if you're not up yet, I suggest you get out of bed this instant before you miss breakfast," McGonagall shouted from the common room. Alice's eyes crept open and with tremendous effort she ambled out of bed, wincing as her bare feet shuffled over the cold stone floor to the end of her bed where her trunk sat waiting. Flipping open the lid, Alice rummaged through her belongings for a reasonably unwrinkled outfit, and pulling off her nightgown, changed in the room; Lily returned with her night clothes neatly folded in her hands just as Alice yanked her robe over her shoulders.

"Where are the other girls?" Alice gestured to the three other empty beds. She pulled her hair into what she hoped would be a semi-passable up-do.

"Already downstairs. Dorcas woke up early to go out to the pitch, Amba went to breakfast early because she figured she'd have a class the first shift, and Mary - well, you know." Every morning, Mary woke ahead of the rest of the girls. A notoriously light sleeper, she once spent an entire night during their third year pacing the Gryffindor common room just because the moonlight was hitting her face the wrong way. "It was too bright," she'd said, "even through the curtains." Lily tucked a curled strand of hair behind her ear and dusted off her robe, which - Alice noted - was lint free. "Ready to go?" Lily's voice was stiff. She sounded anxious and Alice knew she was making herself nervous about Prefect duties, which she'd added onto a prospectively stressful class schedule.

Sighing heavily, Alice nodded and grabbed her eleven-inch willow wand from her trunk. She really needed something like an alarm clock. Not being able to wake herself in the morning did not bode well for Alice's resolution to be more responsible this year in preparation for an apprenticeship with the Ministry once she graduated Hogwarts. She pulled Lily to her and rubbed her friend's shoulders as though she was warming them. "Relax, Lil - it's the first day. Save some anxiety for the rest of the year." Lily smiled and rolled her eyes, and the two headed downstairs.

* * *

Same day  
Moments later  
Gryffindor common room

"Now that we're all gathered - late, as usual - let me begin by welcoming, again, our newest Gryffindors." McGonagall beamed through her glasses at the ten first-years who looked sheepishly around the room at their upperclassmen. The common room was packed; all seventy Gryffindors, ten for each of seven years, had crammed into the circular room. They balanced on the arms of couches and armchairs, gathered in seated bunches on the floors, and huddled on the staircases to the dorms.

McGonagall was perched on the small table in front of the fireplace, clutching a thick stack of papers in her hands. "We're going to have a great year and I want to start us off with a few announcements and reminders. Firstly, tryouts for Quidditch will be posted no later than..."

James yawned, clipping off the end of McGonagall's sentence. He was sitting on the back of the largest couch closest to McGonagall's table. His hazel eyes fought to stay open under his glasses. With a tired effort, James ran his fingers through his untidy black hair, a gesture that seemed a feeble attempt to rally himself awake. Next to him, Sirius' head drooped forward. James silently nudged him and Sirius straightened back up, looking a bit like a robot being charged to life.

Celebrating the commencement of their fifth year, they'd spent the entire night partying with their dorm-mates. Earlier the previous day, capitalizing on Peter's singular talents for hoarding confections and repelling suspicion, James convinced the small, plump boy to sneak treats from the Hogwarts Express trolley into his trunk while Sirius distracted the matronly woman peddling overpriced sweets to the students. It was lucky for them that Remus was on prefect patrol during this particular moment of mischief. He did not approve of theft, even in the name of a good time.

Once again in Gryffindor Tower for another splendid year, the boys enjoyed a bottle of Firewhiskey with their contraband - Sirius and James discovered their second year how perfunctorily Filch checked incoming trunks. Since then, they'd used this handy piece of information to bring loads of forbidden stuff into the school. Over the summer, they devised a way to smuggle alcoholic beverages into their dorm by pouring the contents of the bottle into several glass phials and placing them into Sirius' otherwise unused Potions set. Upon inspection, Filch had simply assumed the phials were full of purified slug bile or a similar amber-red substance.

Throughout the night, Remus, perfect little Prefect he was, had tried to persuade the boys into their beds. "Classes start tomorrow," he reminded them. "You might have an early morning class." Moony was always puncturing the fun mood with practicality. Wormtail, finishing off his spoils from the Welcome Feast, was perfectly content to stay up all night. The Firewhiskey proved a sufficient amount to intoxicate James, Sirius, Peter, and even Remus, once he ditched his efforts at a good nights' sleep and joined the celebration.

Sam Trent, the "fifth wheel" as he put it, spent a large portion of the night in the common room with a group of sixth year girls. The quartet left upstairs might have been jealous except for the fact that Sam had yet to win a girlfriend in the four years they'd been at Hogwarts. When he retired to their dorm for the night, Sam finished up the untouched phials after the other four boys were satisfactorily drunk.

As McGonagall began handing out class schedules, Remus moaned. His head felt as though it were being beaten open with a very dense, very solid rock. What had he been thinking of, drinking himself into a stupor the night before first classes?

Taking his schedule from McGonagall, he noted that Gryffindor had History of Magic first shift after breakfast with Ravenclaw. As miserable as Binns' droning would make his hangover feel, the class could - at the least - provide an opportunity to take a rare nap. It was permissible, Remus reasoned, just this once. And Binns probably wouldn't notice.

Remus glanced over the rest of his schedule, warm brown eyes skipping thoroughly across class names, times, and shifts. He heard a groan to his left.

Alice Emerson, dark auburn hair pulled into a loose floppy bun, was frowning at her schedule. Her nose wrinkled in contempt - Remus remembered how vehemently she detested History of Magic. He smiled and noted, with a small twinge of surprise, how cute she looked.

He had never noticed that before; she was, after all, the same girl that hexed him blind in their third year for not joining the Muggle Club, condemned him to the Hospital Wing for a week, and then refused to apologize. Last year, she voted for Peter of all people as prefect instead of him. Retribution, she stated, for his lack of support of the Muggle Club in her time of need. Remus remembered this with mild concern for his sanity as he studied her again, standing on the girls staircase and exchanging schedules with Lily and Sam, laughing at Sam's exaggerated dismay for some scheduling tragedy. Her blue eyes shone with amusement, but Remus was relieved when James shook his shoulder, breaking him out of his unusual reverie.

"Alright, Moony?" he asked, stretching.

"Just a bit tired from last night, is all."

James nodded conspiratorially and helped Remus up from his chair. The four boys tucked their schedules into their robe pockets and after a brief conference, in which James and Sirius pointed out their free time until History of Magic, they agreed to skip breakfast. The four eagerly pushed each other up the stairs and back into bed for a few more minutes of dreamless sleep. After a few moments, James, Sirius, and Peter drifted into a deep sleep, chorused by a symphony of snores, grunts, and whimpers.

Remus lie awake for another few seconds before pulling back his sheets, grabbing his wand from his nightstand, and stealing down the stairs on his way to the Great Hall for coffee.

* * *

Same day  
7:05 am  
Great Hall

"Remus, the mail just arrived a few minutes ago. There's a letter for you here - I think it's from your mum." Alice tossed Remus a small envelope covered in coffee stains. She ripped open the grease-blotched letter that her own tawny owl, Beatrice, had dropped onto her plate of bacon.

Lily swallowed a bite of jam-covered toast and asked Alice, "Who's it from? Home?"

Alice shook her head. "No, it's from Alice...Longbottom?" Her voice jumped in surprise. Mary, a rather large girl with a wide nose, let out a delighted squeal. "She did marry Frank! Might have told me sooner!" Alice couldn't keep a grin off her face. Sam, Remus, Lily and Emory Greminger, the stocky sixth-year Gryffindor seeker, seemed happy with the news. Alice Longbottom, until recently known as Alice Burbank, had graduated two years before in the same class as Alice's brother, Michael. The two Alices became friends through association, the older fulfilling an elder-sister role to the younger. Michael, Alice Burbank, and Frank Longbottom were inseparable during their Hogwarts years and famously outgoing, accepting people. Everyone who knew them liked them almost instantly.

"What does she say?" Mary urged, flicking her frizzy yellow hair out of her eyes.

"Er...wishes everyone well...says to congratulate Remus and Lily on getting prefect...says to keep her updated on the Quidditch rankings. Oh..." Alice's grin twisted into a concerned frown. Brows knit, she scanned the rest of the letter.

Mirroring Alice's worried expression, Lily asked, "Nothing's wrong, is it?" The rest of the table waited impatiently for Alice to finish reading.

"You remember how I told you about Michael's new job? Well, she and Frank got jobs at the Ministry, too. They're Aurors-in-training. She says they're already requiring them to duel dark wizards, ones on Voldemort's side. They're called..." Alice retraced the letter, "Death eaters. She says to work hard in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Lily and Sam exchanged glances. Remus sat in silent contemplation as Mary blurted, "They're alright, though, aren't they? They haven't been hurt?" Alice shook her head.

"Not yet," Emory sighed, fiddling with his glass of pumpkin juice. Mary inhaled sharply, eyes wide with fright. Noticing her fearful expression, Emory conceded, "But they're a powerful set, aren't they? I'm sure they'll be fine. Those death eaters won't know what hit them." He attempted a brave smile for Mary's sake and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

Having recovered from her initial worry, Lily changed the subject. "History of Magic first shift. Should be fun, eh?" She smiled teasingly at Alice.

"BLOODY HELL." Alice moaned, dropping her head onto the table. "Why did you remind me?"

"I find History of Magic," Lily goaded, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Alice glared at her, then continued, "Just our luck, isn't it? And potions with bleeding Slytherin after that. I have an absolutely impossible schedule this year. I'll never make it out alive." She pulled her schedule from her pocket and displayed it to the table.

Monday  
History of Magic with Ravenclaw (7:30-8:30)  
Potions with Slytherin (8:40-10:40)  
Herbology with Ravenclaw (10:50-11:50)  
Lunch (12:00-1:00)  
Charms with Hufflepuff (1:10-2:10)  
Transfiguration (2:20-3:20)  
Defense Against the Dark Arts with Hufflepuff (3:30-4:30)  
Ancient Runes (4:40-6:40)  
Dinner (6:50-7:50)  
Muggle Studies (8:00-8:45)  
Divination (8:55-9:40)  
Astronomy (12:00-12:50)

"Tuesdays and Thursdays aren't bad," Alice admitted. "I've got class until 5:30. Then on Wednesdays and Fridays I've only got class until 2:30, then astronomy at night. But what I thought was interesting," she began.

Remus interrupted her. "Transfiguration? I thought so too. Usually we have it with Slytherin, but this year it isn't noted." Lily and Mary nodded in agreement, cross-referencing their own schedules.

"Maybe McGonagall finally realized they're all hopeless," Sam offered, taking a muffin from a bowl in front of Remus. The table laughed, then launched an animated tirade about the likely misery of double Potions class.

"It's not too bad," Lily chirped, sitting straighter in her seat.

Alice scoffed as Sam playfully tossed a muffin bit at the side of Lily's head. "Not too bad." Alice rolled her eyes. "Not too bad because Slughorn worships the ground at your feet. That's what's not too bad."

* * *

Same day  
7:22 am  
History of Magic classroom

James, Sirius, and Peter sat alone staring at the empty desks around them. They were disoriented, befuddled, and perturbed. "I think I'm going to be sick," Sirius choked, eyes darting wildly about the room.

This had never occurred before. They were the first ones in the classroom. The only other being in the room was Binns, humming pleasantly to himself as he copied the class seating roster onto the chalk board, and he didn't seem to realize the boys were there. Where was Moony when they needed him? James sat catatonic in his assigned seat in the second row. Sirius was four chairs to his right and back a row. Peter sat diagonally behind James.

James nearly jumped from his desk as Remus entered the room, Lily, Alice, and Mary behind him. Remus raised an eyebrow, fixing James with a questioning stare. Realizing his manners, James stammered, "Er, yes, Remus. Lovely to see you." If anything, this only resulted in Moony's becoming even more suspicious. "You're sitting here." He gestured limply to the seat behind him and sat down.

Alice and Lily exchanged amused, though incredibly confused, glances. Checking the board, Alice noted with some annoyance that she was seated two seats in front of Peter, and thus, diagonally in front of James. Lily smirked triumphantly; she was two seats directly to his left. Nowhere near his line of sight.

"Damn," Alice muttered under her breath. Lily continued to smile as she sat down, waiting for Ravenclaw Jeanine Keila to arrive and sit next to her. They adored James in the way most everyone else did; he was an entertaining boy and relatively smart. However, once he turned his attention solely on one person, it tended to be rather irritating. During long stretches of time, especially in a class as dull as History of Magic, it was best to be out of his reach.

As the rest of the class filtered in, James grew uncontrollably impatient. He stood up once to let Hannah Wilson, a pretty girl with honey blond curls and a pierced bottom lip, into her seat near the wall. He turned to Sirius, who winked with a wolfish grin on his face. Clearly, he was making reference to Hannah's reputation as a wild child as well as an exotic, indiscriminate lover, but James shrugged. For one, the girl had little by way of an upper lip - perhaps she had pierced the lower one to compensate - and two, her twin brother was a Slytherin.

Class started and James' restlessness built. He tapped his fingers on his desk. He sighed, a lot, and cleared his throat a few times. He even transfigured his textbook, _A History of Magic_ , into several infinitely more interesting things, including a pillow - which he napped on. They'd been using the same textbook since first year and it seemed impossible to get through the entire thing. By this year, they were just reaching the midway point. James sighed again, unable to sleep, and let his eyes wander, continuing to rest his head on the pillow.

His eyes skipped naturally over the males in the room, as if they simply weren't there. Even Sirius was unworthy of his absentminded gandering. James watched Alice sensuously push her straight auburn hair over her shoulder, exposing her soft creamy neck. Jeanine, whose thick brown hair reminded James of sweet hot cocoa, curled her long wanton legs under her, her skirt draping suggestively over her warm thigh.

Beside her, innocent Lily Evans stared wide-eyed at the board, her bright green eyes noting every stroke of Binns' chalk. Her face twitched and she sniffed. James cocked an eyebrow. A second later, after several more rapid sniffles, she sneezed a high, timid "shooo". James sat up, gaping openmouthed at her. Her sneeze was the exact same pitch and volume as a golden snitch whisking past his ear.

Sirius noticed James' attention to Lily. Sure, she had made a cute face when she sneezed, but Prongs looked like he'd just seen the most adorable ghost pop out of his showerhead; his face was in turmoil between admiration and fear. Sirius shook his head and returned to flicking parchment bits at the back of Natalie Buchanan.


	3. Proud Hearts and Stubborn Wills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gryffindor has Transfiguration without Slytherin, which is weird. James and his friends discuss his new crush, and later, a few of the girls are caught gossiping. Also, we meet Severus!

September 2nd, 1975  
11:53 am  
Hogwarts grounds

"This is just excellent . . . first Herbology lesson of the year, and I've already botched it up!"

Jeanine Keila – an absolute perfectionist – sniffled fretfully as the fifth-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors crossed the stretch of muddy ground from the Herbology greenhouses to the castle doors.

"How was I supposed to know that fluxweed is to be picked at the full moon? I thought the lesson required us to . . ." Her friends scrambled to catch up with her, as her long legs carried her twice as far as everyone else.

Lily interrupted. "Nina, the lesson required us to pick the fluxweed _flowers_. We were supposed to soak the petals in an inch of water to retain the natural liquidity so Professor Slughorn can dry and powder them at a later date. As for the plants themselves, Professor Sprout clearly said we were to leave them in their pots and that we would be repotting them some time after the full moon."

She cast the Ravenclaw a sympathetic look and shook her head. "You must have heard her incorrectly."

Alice followed silently. Her evening blue eyes scanned the ground for patches of mud, avoiding them, keeping her shoes as clean as she could manage. Her lips were pressed into a hard line.

After five years of close friendship, Alice knew better than to open her mouth at a moment like this. Lily herself had forgotten to use bicorn hide gloves to handle the fluxweed and had nearly withered the delicate leaves of the plant with her rough dragon hide gloves. Only after Charlie Bishop pointed this out to her did she exchange the gloves in time. Her lanky Herbology partner had chuckled lightly at the mishap, but Lily most certainly had not.

Now, though her intentions were undoubtedly benevolent, Alice was sure Lily subconsciously felt she could regain her academic upper hand by correcting Jeanine's mistake. Alice always felt more than a little annoyed at Lily's need to feel superior in academics, but supposed that – as a Muggle-born – Lily needed a way to prove herself as a witch. Though Alice didn't approve of her methods, she was certain that letting Lily have these moments of glory was ultimately better for their friendship. Lily was not aware she often acted this way, and Alice had little heart to tell her. For the vast majority of her interactions, Lily was a kind, generous individual and at moments like these, she probably believed she was simply helping a classmate. Alice wouldn't be the one to tell her that she needed to put a sock in it.

Sensing Jeanine's self-pity worsening, however, Alice steered the subject from Herbology.

"What class does Ravenclaw have after lunch? We have Charms with Hufflepuff which means – oh . . . you'll be with Slytherin, then." Alice realized too late that this would probably only make Jeanine feel worse. The three girls crossed the threshold into the school's entrance hall and immediately pushed through the double doors opening into the Great Hall.

"We have Defence with them next," Jeanine explained. "We usually test higher than they do, at least in the written portions. Some of them are quite good at the practical, but I'd say we perform better overall." Her voice swelled with pride in her house, though surprisingly little distaste for Slytherin. A smile found its way to her lips, and she seemed to have forgotten about the fluxweed.

 _I guess she also forgot that humiliating loss to Slytherin last term,_ Alice mused.

* * *

Same day  
12:14 pm  
Great Hall

Sighing heavily, James pushed mashed potatoes around on his plate before dropping his fork altogether. He rested his chin in his hand and sighed again, a little louder this time. Sirius sat opposite him, chewing enthusiastically on a piece of steak, absolutely unaware of James' not-so-subtle attempt to get his attention. Remus and Peter glanced back and forth between the two before Remus gently placed his fork and knife on his plate and, resting his elbows on the table, raised his eyebrows at the bespectacled boy sitting across from him.

"Yes, Prongs? You clearly have something to say. Out with it."

James nodded in Sirius' direction. The table fell silent. Sirius looked up, realizing his three mates were waiting for acknowledgement. He grinned innocently, swallowed, and choked, "Erm – sure, mate. What is it?"

James stared longingly at the redheaded Prefect at the next table, laughing as she conversed with Amba and Mary. "She's perfect," he crooned. Sighing once more, James latched his hazel eyes onto her from afar. His friends' eyes followed his gaze.

Sirius' face screwed into an expression of confusion. "Who, Evans? Ha . . . very funny, mate. With all this misdirected attention, I think you're making Moony feel inadequate." Remus rolled his eyes, and Sirius added, "No worries, Moony. I'm sure Prongs thinks you're perfect, too." He chuckled to himself, and promptly returned to his steak.

"What do you think of her, Wormtail?" Leaving Peter no time to reply, James continued, "I've only just realized how amazing she is. Look at her – she's cute, far smarter than anyone else in our year - " Remus snorted, while James continued to list Lily's attributes, " – she's charming, witty . . . a bit too much of a rule follower, but that shouldn't be hard to change. Her sneeze sounds just like a snitch, you know – that must be a sign, right? And she has eyes like green diamonds . . ."

Only Peter listened to James' admiration of Lily with real interest. Sirius was far too engrossed in his lunch to pay much attention, and Remus' face was etched with incredulity. After a few moments, he cut James short.

"Prongs, what are you saying? Do you fancy her? Properly fancy her?" If he did, this had certainly come out of nowhere. James had been infatuated with Evette Devlin from Ravenclaw since their first ride on the Hogwarts Express.

In the face of such a forthright question, James was not entirely certain how to answer. He did fancy Evans, didn't he? He silently weighed the choice of telling his friends the truth against the likelihood that embarrassment would ensue against the additional consideration of how likely his winning Evans over would be. There was no sense admitting a crush that would not play out. Finally, he decided his chances were good enough that he could risk admitting to his friends a secret they, of course, had already guessed.

"So what if I do? I've got a shot, don't I? Last term, I heard a rumor that she's had a crush on me since second year . . . although that may have been Lucy from Slytherin," James paused, trying his hardest to remember if he'd heard Lily or Lucy. "Erm, well, it doesn't matter. The point is – "

"The point is," Remus broke in cautiously, "that Lily has no interest in you."

"But – "

"But, nothing, Prongs. I know for a fact she's not interested. Besides, she's far too invested in academics, as well as her Prefect duties, to go messing around with the wreck of a boyfriend you would undoubtedly be. Think of her future, James. You can hardly remember a girl's name long enough to finish a date, much less put in the commitment necessary to cultivate an entire relationship, especially with a girl like Lily." Remus shook his head, softening his voice. "No worries, Prongs. You'll be over this nonsensical crush in a matter of hours. Right, Sirius?" Sirius simply shrugged his shoulders, mouth full of potatoes.

"Meadowes was perfectly happy," James muttered under his breath, his mood dampening significantly.

"You dated Dorcas for five minutes, Prongs! And in that time, you managed not only to forget her name, but to insult her Quidditch skills AND kiss another girl!"

"Yeah, but she said she'd never been happier," James countered stubbornly. He was quite sick of Remus' always ruining his fun. And besides, what did Remus know about dating him?

"Well, yes, after she broke up with you . . ." Peter corrected, his voice only a half joke. He hated getting in the middle of his friends' fights, but the urge to rectify false information proved too great. He'd thought maybe he could make his friends laugh. He shrunk back down in his seat, muttering to Sirius to "pass the rolls, please", which Sirius did, shoving one into his mouth before handing the basket to Peter.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Oh, alright, Prongs. I give up. Go, try to convince Lily to fall for you. You're only harming yourself, you know. But don't come crying to me when she rejects you – which she will, by the way." Although his tone was sharp, Remus – and James – knew well enough that if James did, in fact, have his heart broken, Remus would be the first person to notice and the first person to try to make things right for his best mate, no matter how much James may have deserved it.

Feeling obliged to correct the situation yet again, Peter finally spoke up in James' defence. "Well, I think James and Lily would make a lovely couple." He grinned hopefully at James, who nodded in agreement.

"See! Wormtail believes in me! Where's your faith, Moony?"

Remus simply shook his head and continued with his lunch.

* * *

Same day  
Meanwhile  
Great Hall

One table over, Lily, Alice, and Jeanine had joined a large group at the Ravenclaw table. Jeanine and Lily were talking to Amba Bhatti and Mary, trying to convince Mary that her schedule was manageable. "At least you have an hour before Astronomy…that's enough time for a quick nap, isn't it?" Lily said cheerfully. Amba nodded, and Jeanine glanced between the two nervously. She hated seeing anyone upset, especially Mary, who was one of the sweetest girls in the world. Mary looked unconvinced.

Beside them, Alice participated half-heartedly in conversation with Dorcas, her close friend Vivianne Rowley from Ravenclaw and Mariette Pearson, one of the only tolerable Slytherins in their year. She and Mariette silently ate lunch as Vivianne began asking Dorcas about the upcoming Quidditch season. Alice and Mariette exchanged looks. Neither cared as passionately for Quidditch as the two friends beside them.

"I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I have a feeling Gryffindor will absolutely dominate this year. Depending on the replacement players who haven't been recruited yet, our team may still be the youngest on average, but Slytherin is a mess. They'll be fighting between each other more often than against the opposing teams. Hufflepuff's got a weak Keeper, and Anderson and McKinnon will be too busy snogging to do Ravenclaws defence much good." Dorcas gestured emphatically with each point. The sport filled every pore, fibre, and breath of her body. Quidditch was the reason for her sun-kissed skin, perpetually untidy wind-whipped hair, and constantly aching muscles.

Vivianne disagreed with the Gryffindor keeper's assessment. Though Vivianne wasn't currently on the team, the bronze-skinned Ravenclaw was almost as passionate about Quidditch as the Gryffindor across from her and planned to try out for the team – after the OWLs, of course.

"Ravenclaw is stronger than it's been in a long time, and from what I've heard, we have some good players trying out to fill in the extra Chaser position. I would expect a pretty good fight from us this year. Besides, as long as one of us beats Slytherin…"

At that, Mariette turned away from the conversation, rolling her eyes at Alice, who laughed in agreement. The Slytherin ran a hand through her tight, brown curls and regarded Alice with curious, pale blue eyes.

"Well, aside from Quidditch . . . " Alice murmured, grinning.

Laughing, Mariette nodded. "Anything else, please. How's your day been so far?" She grabbed a roll from the basket in front of her and picked off a bite, popping it into her mouth as she waited for Alice to respond.

The two girls had become friends almost immediately after starting at Hogwarts. Alice had come to Hogwarts believing firmly in the stereotype that all Slytherins from rich, pureblood families were vehement blood purists. She'd been happily surprised when the first Slytherin she met – who happened to be from a rich, pureblood family – defied her expectations. Charms partners their first year, Alice and Mariette had found they had one very important thing in common: they both had seemingly flawless older siblings at Hogwarts, and though they loved them, both girls felt they fell under their siblings' shadows.

"It's been strange," Alice mused. "I miss Michael terribly – really I do – but you know, it's nice to finally be the only Emerson at Hogwarts." She gave Mariette a teasing grin, as she slurped a spoonful of warm broth.

The other girl laughed. "It is, is it? Well I wouldn't know, would I? Being the younger sister and all to the Head Girl-slash- Slytherin Quidditch captain." She paused. "I love my sister, don't get me wrong, but I'll be glad when she's graduated. Being the only Pearson at Hogwarts sounds nice."

Although she had the third highest marks in her class, Mariette often felt overshadowed by everyone – her classmates, her housemates, and mostly, her seemingly perfect older sister. Academics were the only thing Mariette was better at; Isabella may be a great Quidditch player and have a ton of friends, but her marks were never more than slightly above average. Mariette, however, made perfect marks in almost every class and tried not to be bitter about the rest, as she knew first-hand how often bitterness scarred those who fell prey to it.

The girls continued to commiserate about their older siblings while Vivianne and Dorcas debated Quidditch, until all four heard Mary exclaim, "Oh, it's useless! I'll never pass the OWLS this year, never! All I'm good at is knitting. I might as well just sell my stuff on the streets!" The table burst into laughter, and Mary, becoming pink faced as she realized the double meaning in her words, giggled along with them, feeling embarrassed but with significantly lifted spirits.

* * *

Same day  
2:20 pm  
Transfiguration

By this point in the day, all ten fifth-year Gryffindors had noticed the peculiarity of this year's Transfiguration class. Normally, Slytherin shared this class with them. This year, it seemed, they were on their own. When Alice and Lily entered the classroom, McGonagall was sitting at her desk reading _Transfiguration Today_ , absently Transfiguring an object on her desk into a multitude of different things and paying little attention to the students arriving for class.

The group stood in an awkward bunch just inside the door, until finally Alice asked, "Professor, where do we sit?" A seating chart was notably absent from the bewitched chalk board behind the professor's desk.

"Anywhere is fine, Miss Emerson," McGonagall replied, peeking over _Transfiguration Today_.

Mary, who had just entered, huffing and pink as a Pygmy Puff, glanced around the room and asked, "Where are the Slytherins?"

"Herbology, I believe," McGonagall answered, turning the page in her magazine and transfiguring the ten-gallon hat on her desk into a spinning globe.

The large room seemed somehow cosier now than only eleven people filled it, rather than twenty-one. The fifth-years scattered throughout the room, striking up hushed conversations until half past, when McGonagall put down her magazine, stood up, and addressed the class.

"Gryffindors, please, settle down now. Thank you. I trust every one of you has enjoyed a delightful summer. Hopefully it has not escaped your notice that Slytherin house will not be joining us this year. I had far less NEWT students than I had anticipated for the term, and since Hufflepuff and Gryffindor had the lowest marks last year, I have decided to give each of the OWL level classes from these houses some more personalized attention."

She added, "In case it interests any of you, Slytherin and Ravenclaw will be Transfiguring together this year."

As McGonagall turned to reach for the textbook her on desk, Lily and James raised their hands. Without waiting to be called on, both exclaimed –

"We don't have class with Slytherin?"

"We had the lowest marks last term?"

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, and coolly addressed each student. "No, Mr Potter. No class with Slytherin. That's what I just said, if you'll kindly pay attention. And, no to you as well, Miss Evans. Gryffindor's scores were _slightly_ higher than Hufflepuff's, but in any case, there is still much room for improvement. Now, shall we get started?"

Promptly whispering the ends of conversations, each student turned around and faced the front of the room. Noticing that James and Sirius were seated next to each other, as were Dorcas and Amba, Lily and Alice, Remus and Peter, and Sam Trent and Mary, McGonagall frowned with disapproval.

"This just won't do," she muttered to herself. Raising her voice, McGonagall walked through the aisles of seats and addressed the class again. "I have decided," she began, trapping the class under her gaze, "that a seating chart may be pertinent after all. I will split you into new pairs. Each pair will consist of one boy and one lady, who I hope will keep these young men in check." Her lips twitched with amusement and she winked amicably at the class, which giggled in unison, unbothered by the change in seating.

James turned to Sirius, whose devilish grin confirmed his own excitement. James had been hoping to be seated next to Lily in order to get to know her better. Sirius, on the other hand, would not have minded sitting next to Dorcas; the tall dark-haired Keeper knew more about Quidditch than most of the girls Sirius had ever met, except, perhaps, his cousin Andromeda. As one of the Gryffindor beaters, Sirius knew the two of them could spend many Transfiguration classes secretly scheming for upcoming games.

McGonagall stepped back, revealing the hastily scribbled seating chart.

As the students moved into their new seats, James smiled amicably, albeit slightly disappointed, at Alice. He didn't mind sitting next to her; they had been friends since first year. He ran his fingers through his hair and reminded himself that she was, after all, Lily's best friend. If he couldn't sit next to the fiery, redheaded Prefect, her best mate would be the second best thing.

Sirius moved to the back of the class and plopped into the seat next to Mary, who offered a warm pudgy hand full of Bertie Bott's. Pushing black hair out from in front of his eyes, Sirius took the beans, returning Mary's smile of goodwill. She wasn't Dorcas, but if she kept brining snacks, she was as good as.

Satisfied with the dynamic of the class, McGonagall pulled herself into her characteristic, straight-backed posture and raised her voice to address the class once more. "As you all know, at the conclusion of this year, each of you will be taking the Ordinary Wizarding Levels for each of your seven core classes. The Transfiguration OWLs exam will consist of two parts: a written portion, and a practical portion. We will be reviewing the fundamental laws of Transfiguration and the rest of the basics from your first four years at Hogwarts. In addition, we will also cover some of the more advanced types of Transfiguration that you may encounter in your careers after graduation," she glanced between James and Sirius as she added, "such as Animagi, the term for people who can voluntarily transform into animals."

* * *

Same day  
Meanwhile  
Herbology greenhouse #5

A low snarl brewed in the back of his throat as Severus Snape found himself, once again, wishing Slytherin had Herbology with Gryffindor instead of Hufflepuff. Even if it meant he'd have to tolerate the insufferable antics of Potter and Black, he'd have done it just to have Lily as his partner instead of the clumsy, pixie of a girl he had to work with now. Charis Amity was a relatively tolerable person normally, but she had no aptitude for Herbology, he'd come to find out, despite Hufflepuff's reputation for excelling in the subject. Seething, though externally aloof, Severus raised his hand for the fourth time this lesson; Professor Sprout handed him another fluxweed plant without asking what it was he needed. She gave him a sympathetic look and then smiled reassuringly at Charis.

"You'll get the hang of it, dear," Professor Sprout chirped. "It just takes a little patience." She gave Severus an affectionate pat on the back and scurried off with a yelp as a particularly overgrown fluxweed plant became ensnared in Dedalus Diggle's long orange hair.

Severus scowled and handed the pot to Charis. Her face was red and her earthy green eyes were wide with embarrassment. "I am SO sorry, Severus," her apology rushed out of her like air from a deflated balloon. "I don't know what – "

The gaunt Slytherin hushed her with an upheld hand. "It's fine, Charis," he conceded stiffly. "Just try again, and for God's sake, read the instructions more carefully this time before Sprout runs out of fluxweeds." She nodded jerkily, small beads of sweat forming on her quizzical brow.

"Another mistake? You must be loving this, Snape." A jarring, nasally voice commanded Severus' attention. The thin, boyish figure of Lucy Jarvis shoved into his side, laughing as she gestured across the table toward Charis. "It would be just your luck to be paired with the only Hufflepuff that is hopeless at Herbology." The sharp lilts in her voice weren't far from cackles, and Severus' scowl deepened at the taunts of his housemate. Charis glanced up at Lucy, her face a mixture of embarrassment and irritation.

"Sod off, Jarvis," Snape replied peevishly, his voice just loud enough for her to hear. He wished he felt proud of Charis' persistance, especially since he knew the girl beside him – as well as most in Slytherin – would have simply given up after the second try, but instead, he found himself only annoyed at the Hufflepuff's incompetence. Why couldn't the stupid girl read the directions and follow them precisely? What was so bloody difficult about that?

He felt the urge to nudge her small, vulnerable body out of the way and finish the lesson himself. Furthermore, he wished Lucy Jarvis would mind her own bloody business and quit insipidly giggling next to him. He wanted the Slytherin on his right side – Gabriel Wilson, with his ridiculous curly blond hair and round cherubic face – to stop looking down his nose at him, calculating every move he made as though he were observing him under a microscope. Severus wanted most of all for this class to end, so he could escape to the library to start on the Potions homework with Lily.

He drummed his thin, trembling fingers on the table, and watched Charis fail, once again, from across the table. She looked up to meet his gaze, and his impatient, angry black eyes bored into hers. For a moment, Severus contemplated a demeaning criticism about her inadequacy, but before he could speak, Lucy had already seized the opportunity.

"Again?!" Her voice was incredulous, mocking the small blond Hufflepuff across the table. "Is being stupid the only thing you're good at?"

Severus watched Charis' face, and his breath caught slightly when he saw the hurt in her green eyes. It was the first day of class, and already she was cracking under pressure. He saw an unseemly degree of pain on her face, and a distinct sense of shame nearly parted his lips to call Lucy off.

Kevin Bethney, the large, normally rather gentle Hufflepuff partnered with Lucy fixed her with a fierce glare. His thin lips drew back so that they were almost non-existent. "Lucy," his voice was low, a soft, commanding rumble barely above a whisper. "That's enough. Leave her be. Please, mind your own work."

The red head next to Severus – an unsatisfactory proxy for the ginger haired girl he wished he was next to – let out a sharp, offended gasp. Her face turned a furious shade of crimson as she stood suddenly from her chair, pointing her wand at the boy in front of her. "You **dare** tell me what to do?" she snarled, her voice cracking in rage. Kevin, of course, looked appropriately frightened at her dramatic outburst. He stood from his seat and slowly stepped backward. Severus would have been more impressed if he hadn't known Lucy was incapable of following through with her empty threats. She could hardly transfigure a teacup, much less hex a Hufflepuff.

Lucy's face, contorted in rage, twisted into a mask of sickening glee as she fed on the fear of her Herbology partner. Only when she felt Professor Sprout's wand at the back of her neck did her grin falter, and her arm begin to tremble, just slightly enough for Severus to catch it.

"That is quite enough, Miss Jarvis," Sprout barked. Professors were not supposed to hold their wands to students, strictly speaking, but in a case like this . . . with a student as unhinged as Lucy Jarvis . . . Her voice became even and controlled as she continued, "twenty points from Slytherin for your misconduct, and a detention at Professor Slughorn's discretion. Now, lower your wand and hand it to me. You may retrieve it this evening from Professor Slughorn."

* * *

Same day  
11:15 pm  
Gryffindor common room

Mary tapped her quill on the table, leaving small ink splatters on the piece of scrap parchment she was using for notes. Dorcas and Alice worked unusually diligently across from her, both glancing periodically at the open books in front of them. Mary could see the dark night sky through the windows behind her two friends, though the sky was too cloudy for her to see stars. The frizzy-haired blond laid down her quill and started to pick the dirt from underneath the nails of her thick fingers, finding it a momentary distraction from the horrendously boring Potions homework in front of her. The assignment wasn't due until next week, but Alice and Dorcas had enthusiastically begun the task of researching ingredients for the different potions they would have to brew.

When her fingernails were clean and the tip of her quill dry, Mary sighed and watched her friends work. Dorcas always tackled homework with vigour since her spot on the Quidditch team meant she had to keep her marks high. But Alice . . . Alice was rubbish at Potions and, come to think of it, Mary had never seen her work on Potions homework with so much focus.

"Alice," Mary piped, "what are you doing?"

"Potions."

"Well, yes, but you hate Potions." Mary's characteristically blotchy cheeks burned redder with confusion. She wasn't missing something, was she?

Alice glanced at Dorcas and, resting her quill in the crease of an open book, told Mary the truth. "Well, I sort of just wanted to get it over with so I could research something else." The confusion on Mary's face was unwavering. Alice continued, "It's a stupid thing really, but it's been bothering me all day." She lowered her voice. "I keep wondering _why_ Sirius spent so much time at James' this summer."

Mary's face lit up, and Dorcas put down her quill with a resigned sigh. She had been wondering the same thing. It wasn't unusual for all of the students in their year to know at least a little of each other's lives outside of school, and students in both the same house and year could practically tell each other's life stories.

Gryffindor House was particularly close with very few secrets between its students. And the fact of the matter was that Sirius' being at James' house was unusual, since he came back from summer hols every year groaning about the interminable hours spent wasting away at his parent's home in London. That he had actually enjoyed his summer, particularly in the company of James, was a notable occurrence.

"Maybe his parents kicked him out," Dorcas whispered. "I mean, he isn't exactly flaunting their purist nonsense like his brother."

"But surely he wouldn't be so happy about it?" Mary implored. "He'd be at least a little upset."

Alice shook her head. "I think he ran away, and – " Her sentence was cut short by a loud creak on the boys' staircase. The three looked up to see James grinning in their direction.

"Actually," he explained, as he pulled up a chair and joined their table. Mary's face instantly flushed pink with embarrassment, and Alice and Dorcas measured James' tone and reaction, making sure he hadn't been offended by their talking about him. Evidently, he hadn't been. "My parents invited him to stay. His parents didn't know mine very well, but had heard they were purebloods, so with a bit of convincing, my mum and dad agreed to pretend to believe in the whole 'purity of blood' rubbish. They were quite believable, actually, and Sirius' parents agreed to let him stay with me for the summer. It was all so simple, really; I'm surprised we didn't think of it sooner."

Almost on cue, Sirius came stumbling through the common room door, carrying a large box loaded with food from the kitchens. The Invisibility cloak that he, Remus, James, and Peter occasionally used to get around Hogwarts undetected was draped over top. He smiled at the group at the table, and took a few brisk strides in their direction. Setting the box down with a huff, he pulled the cloak off. "Alright, Prongs?" He nodded to the girls, winking at Alice, who snorted and rolled her eyes, a friendly grin across her face.

"How much food can you four possibly eat?" she asked, taking in the abundance of food crammed into the box. "That must be enough to last you lot at least a week."

"Actually," Sirius countered, "it's enough to last one person a month." He smirked at James, and they both pulled their wands from their pockets. James rummaged through his other pocket and supplied a couple of small vials.

The girls eyed them suspiciously. "What are you up to?" Dorcas demanded, leaning her elbows on the table. Predictably, Mary looked concerned. A small smirk crossed Alice's features – she was almost certain this had something to do with...

"An entire day has gone by and we have yet to welcome Snape back properly," Sirius said, pulling items of food out. He lowered his voice, as though he was sharing a grave secret. "We're going to put some of these _innocent_ little potions into this food, and then send it back to the house elves. They know what to do from there." He stood up grinning triumphantly. "Grand, isn't it?"

The girls looked confused, and James added, "They'll prepare this food just for him and send it up to _him_ during meals. Don't worry, Mary, no one else will be affected." He and Sirius began to pick up various items of food and levitate small drops of the potions through the air, muttering incantations to bind the potions into the food. The girls watched them work silently for a few minutes. Lily and Amba were in a late night Arithmancy class, Peter and Remus were getting a bit of sleep in before Astronomy, and Sam was out of the tower, as usual.

Finally, Mary squared her shoulders and said, "I don't think that's a very nice thing to do, James Potter. You should be ashamed of yourself. What if he gets hurt?" James laughed, and Sirius walked around the table to give Mary a quick squeeze and a small peck on the top of her head.

Dorcas merely smirked. Before James could say anything to his defence, Alice fixed Mary with an almost pitying expression and explained, "Mary, has Severus Snape ever done anything nice for you?"

When she didn't answer, she continued, "Has he ever said anything nice to you?"

"Well, no, bu-"

"How does he normally treat people?"

Mary was silent for a moment, before whispering, "He's a bit mean, I suppose." She didn't add, though she was thinking it, that there were several other students in Slytherin that were meaner than he was.

"Exactly," Alice nodded and turned to James and Sirius. "Does Remus know about this?"

Sirius smirked. "Well . . . no. We didn't think he'd be a good sport about it."

"I _still_ think it sounds a little bit cruel," Mary interjected, refusing to be ignored. Her cheeks were their usual shade of crimson, and her yellow hair seemed frizzier with irritation. James sat in the chair beside her and gestured for her to turn toward him. With a bit of exasperated reluctance, she did, and he fixed his hands on her pudgy shoulders.

"Come on, Mary. We've all had our sour moments with that greasy git. This isn't anything he doesn't deserve. We aren't trying to poison the bloke or anything. We're just having a little fun, that's all. Trust us. When have we ever gone too far?" The tall girl relaxed in his grip, a small smile slowly cracking across her lips.

"I suppose never," she confessed. She shrugged James' hands off with a giggle. "You boys are just too much." Her shoulders twitched slightly as she turned back toward the two girls sitting across from her, still a little bit conflicted about James' and Sirius' prank.

Alice and Dorcas smiled at the two boys and returned to their homework.


	4. Spirit of Unity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gryffindor Quidditch team sits around before try-outs, Lily and Severus do some Potions homework, and Sam and Alice go somewhere they're not supposed to go.

September 16, 1975  
6:17 am  
Gryffindor common room

Every generation of witch and wizard reflects on its Hogwarts years differently. Throughout its history, Hogwarts has been both a strict, crisp boarding school and an easy-going escape from the harsh strictures of polite society, a tiger's cage of discontent and competition and a community of friendship, generosity, and unity. Hogwarts is, in short, whatever its students need it to be.

For the class of 1978, Hogwarts was a home in the most intimate sense. Classmates were more like brothers, sisters, and cousins than unrelated acquaintances; teachers more like wizened grandparents or loving aunts and uncles.

Together, the student body lived and breathed the excitement and suspense of the game of Quidditch. Its players were heroes, symbols of the greatness and particular hallmarks of each house.

At six o'clock in the morning on a brisk September day, Gryffindor heroes James Potter and Sirius Black sat in front of the cold, unlit fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, passively observing the journey of a thin vein of drool making its way down team captain Caradoc Dearborn's chin.

"A Galleon it drips," Sirius muttered, rubbing the dryness from his eyes. This year's tryouts began at promptly 6:24 and so far, the three were the only players present.

Dorcas Meadowes tramped down the stairs from the girls' dormitories in full uniform, carrying her broom, protective pads, and helmet. She plopped onto the couch next to Sirius, and looked over at Caradoc. "Absolutely not . . . it's going to make it to his neck." She reached over to shake Sirius' outstretched hand, sealing the bet, before leaning forward to connect the buckles on her shin guards.

The four teammates sat in companionable silence for a few moments. Dorcas continued to put on her protective padding as James and Sirius continued to absently watch the drool now sliding down the curve of Caradoc's lower jaw. They looked up at the sound of footsteps on the boys' staircase. Seventh year Trenton Schappell took the last step and mumbled a sleepy "hey" before kicking his classmate square in the shin and sitting down on the chair opposite him.

Caradoc blinked awake and used the bottom hem of his red and gold Quidditch jersey to wipe the drool from his jaw. Sirius and Dorcas exchanged glances, and Dorcas shrugged; they would never settle their bet. Caradoc looked around at the group before him and checked his watch. "It's 6:22. Is this all we've got, then? Do any of you lot know who's trying out?"

James readjusted his goggles - Quidditch-appropriate replacements for his everyday spectacles - over his eyes. "We need a chaser and two Beaters. All I know is Sirius is re-trying for Beater."

"It's a stupid rule, mate," Sirius complained. "I don't see why you have to try for the same position two years in a row before it's officially yours."

"It's to make sure we don't get stuck with rubbish players," Caradoc yawned, shaking his head to clear the last fog of sleep from his brain. "Some people are great for the try-outs then bloody awful during the season. This is our last chance to boot you."

Sirius shrugged, unconvinced. As silly as he found the rule, he and James had discussed the regulation at length in the past, and James had assured him he would change it if he should ever become the team captain. Since this was Dearborn's last year, he had to appoint the next captain by Christmas hols, and James was a prime candidate. He'd been on the team for two years already.

"At any rate," Dorcas chimed in, "you'll probably get it, Sirius. You did great last year, so I see no reason you wouldn't make the team again." She turned to Trenton as she fastened a buckle on her right wrist guard. "What are you trying for, Trent?" she asked, though she knew the answer.

"Chaser, again. I've been practicing all summer," Trenton replied, self-consciously pulling his undersized Quidditch jersey from some minor-league team Dorcas didn't recognize around his midsection. She had never seen him so nervous. Normally red-faced from laughter, Trenton was deathly pale as he half-heartedly chuckled, "it's my last year, so hopefully I've improved a bit. Third time's a charm, right?"

The other three boys were silent. Dorcas smiled reassuringly and patted his knee. "I bet you'll do great." He returned her smile, taking a deep, steadying breath. The room was chilly and pleasantly silent for another few minutes. James stared vaguely out of the window, lost in thought; Sirius scraped dry mud from the bottom of his left boot with his fingernail; Trent nervously tapped his fingers together, humming almost imperceptibly to himself.

Finally Dorcas broke the silence. "I think Joan Dawson is going to try for Chaser as well." Although this was meant to encourage Trent, to show him he'd probably at least earn the position over a fourth-year girl, he looked as though he had just gotten word his kitten, Mitsy, had been crushed by a troll.

* * *

Same day  
Meanwhile  
Library

In a secluded back corner of the library, close enough to the Restricted Section that soft groans and sharp screams could occasionally be heard escaping from the dusty shelves there, an old, well-worn leather couch had been abandoned sometime in the early 1920's. Few students ever ventured this deep into the library, if they had ever stepped inside it at all. Lily Evans and Severus Snape, both habitual visitors of libraries, had found the couch together while exploring the library on a rainy autumn's afternoon within their first few weeks at Hogwarts.

For four years, this couch had been the friends' spot for endless hours of uninterrupted study, reading, and conversation. This year would be no different.

Early morning was their favorite time to work; though the lonely corner that housed their leather couch was sleepy and hardly ever trespassed upon, the library was quieter than usual in the earliest hours of the day. One could hear the walls hum softly with hundreds of years' worth of secrets, mysteries, laughter, and sadness. The noises from the Restricted Section were especially acute as the ginger-haired Gryffindor met with her friend from Slytherin House. They would be brewing together this morning.

Severus approached Lily almost noiselessly - but for his robe trailing softly against the stone floor, she would not have heard him approach at all. He nodded a welcome to her, pulling his hair from his face with his thin, delicate fingers. She patted the couch above her left shoulder; she usually sat on the floor to mix ingredients for the potions and would join him on the couch once the concoction was left to brew in peace.

As always, Severus was in charge of reading the instructions aloud and noting helpful changes in procedure or incongruities within the appearance of the potion itself as it was manipulated by Lily. He made sure he carefully copied all of their notes into his textbook, which grew increasingly annotated and well-worn with each year.

They almost always began potions homework first, because they could work on other assignments while the potion fermented. Scanning over this week's assignment, Lily pulled out the ingredients she had packed from her bag. The project was a written explanation and description of the effect of salamander's blood on a variety of Potions. The idea Slughorn was trying to get across, Lily ventured, was that a single additive to a potion could change - possibly ruin or enhance - the integrity of the brew.

Only three weeks into school, Professor Slughorn was still covering theoretical aspects of potion-making. The class would not start practical brewery for another few weeks, so any potions brewed for homework assignments were done out-of-class by applying knowledge from previous years of study. Which potion of each kind the students tested for this essay was a matter of free choice - if brewed correctly, the results should be more or less the same.

Opening to the page on common ingredient types and their uses, Severus cleared his throat. He pulled his collapsible pewter cauldron from his bag and handed it to Lily. She squared it in front of her and lit a contained fire to warm the pot before they started adding ingredients.

"We need one sleeping potion, a cleaning potion, and a healing potion," Severus read from his notes on the assignment, breaking the morning's calm silence. "Let's see what you brought." What they would brew depended on what they could make out of the materials at hand. Severus eyed the array of items laid out on the ground before Lily. There seemed to be a little bit of all the common ingredients, as well as a considerable selection of more specialized elements. A small appreciative smile graced his lips. Typical Lily - always prepared for anything.

She leaned her head back and smiled up at him from the floor. "Well, I wanted to make sure we had options, so I brought a little bit of whatever I could get my hands on." When Severus said nothing, she turned, and pointing to his textbook, reminded him, "We need to choose our potions so we can get started. You know how long some of them take."

"Right," Severus nodded, flipping the pages of his book to the indexes in the back.

He had been adding this moment to the list of times Lily had - without effort or design - impressed him beyond anything he had come to expect from the people in his life. To say he merely appreciated this couch and this corner of the library would fail to convey the sheer significance of the spot. Of any one place in the entire castle, in this small corner of the library alone could Severus fully let down his guard. Here, he need not fear pranks, criticism, or pressure from his housemates or teachers. Here, he could simply be himself - a quiet, often morose academic who wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Lily was his preferred and only company.

"Under 'Potions to Make One Sleep', we can make a Draught of Living Death, Dreamless Sleep, a curing spell for sleepwalking, if that counts . . ." Severus looked up at Lily, who shrugged. He continued, "I think the Dreamless Sleep is our best option."

Lily nodded. "As much as I would love the challenge, we don't cover the Draught of Living Death until next year, and I wouldn't want to deprive Slughorn of the opportunity to teach us something." She laughed playfully, and Severus simply smiled back, loving the way her nose crinkled a little when she grinned.

* * *

Same day  
10:23 pm  
7th floor corridor

The wind knocked against the window as Alice laid her books on the chair beside her and stretched, reaching high above her head and extending her legs, which had been curled under her for nearly five hours. Down the hall from Professor Flitwick's office was a small alcove that housed two lush armchairs and a small table in between. A window, medieval glass sagging with age, hung at the top of the alcove. This was Alice's favorite spot to study, in-part because it was close to Flitwick's office. He was her favorite professor and Charms her second favorite class after Muggle Studies, so she loved to stop in and chat with the diminutive Professor if she was having trouble on an assignment or simply wanted to discuss charm work.

Her study alcove was situated in the middle of the corridor, equidistant from both corners. Alice could always see who was walking toward her from either side and devise a conversation before they reached her. Around one of those corners was the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. When Alice got tired of studying, her bed was only a few short steps and a couple of flights of tower stairs away, and since most people studied in the common rooms or library, the alcove was usually vacant.

Alice looked up when she heard a voice approaching around the corner. It was a male voice, and he seemed to be talking to someone in confidence. "No one in Gryffindor knows about us, except Mar- " Sam Trent broke off as he rounded the corner, arm-in-arm with a dark-haired girl Alice recognized as a year below in Slytherin. Smiling, Sam made his way toward her. "Emerson, I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," Sam complained. He addressed the girl beside him. "Have you met my friend Alice?"

"I don't think I have, not officially. Nathara Hastings," she said, untangling her arm from Sam's and extending her hand. She was short, thin, and unjustly beautiful for a girl of about fourteen. Her dark brown hair hung in waves about her round, rosy cheeks. Deep blue eyes smiled at Alice from a face the color of cream.

"Alice Emerson." Aware that her hand was sweaty from hours of holding a quill, Alice rubbed her palm against her robe before accepting Nathara's handshake. "You said 'Nathara'? I've never heard that name before."

"Most people call me Nat. It's easier," the Slytherin said with a wink. "Well, I'd better go. Long day tomorrow. Nice to meet you, Alice." She stood on her tiptoes to land a small peck on Sam's cheek before turning and heading back the way they'd come.

"Sleep well, Nat!" Sam yelled as she retreated around the corner. He turned back toward Alice, hands sunk into his pockets. He smiled. "I know that look. You're working too hard."

"I'm not, really," Alice protested, picking her books up from the chair beside her. "I have to work on the Charms essay. And anyway, easy for you to say! You're out all the time with hoards of girls and you always get good marks. It's not right." She grinned and reached for the quill tucked in the crease of the book at the last page she'd been reading.

"Ohhh, no you don't. Put those away," Sam commanded, grabbing her knapsack from the ground. "Go put all this in your room and meet me on the fifth floor next to the statue of Gregory the Smarmy."

"The statue of who?" Granted, she didn't exactly love History of Magic, but she'd paid enough attention to know Binns had never mentioned any Gregory the Smarmy fellow.

" 'Who' is not important. Dress for the cold and bring your wand and a few Galleons." Sam beamed mischievously as he took off around the corner that led to the Gryffindor common room - and the stairs down to the sixth floor.

Alice sighed and began picking up her books.

Ten minutes later, dutifully dressed in a thick, winter traveling cloak and fur-lined boots, Alice rounded the first corner on the fifth floor that would take her to where the statue should be. She'd had to ask Remus if he knew where the statue was, and sure enough, he'd come across it several times during Prefect patrols.

"Erm, yeah . . . two doors down the hall on the left from the staircase is another smaller corridor - take a left there and then a right at the row of windows. You'll walk about forty-five meters before taking another right once you come to a big door at the end of the corridor. The hallway is rather small, very ill-lit, but there should be a row of chairs against the wall and at the end of that, the statue of Gregory the Smarmy," he'd said with a look she couldn't place. "Why do you need to know?"

"Sam's meeting me there," she supplied, pushing past him to get out of the common room. She shot out a quick, "Thanks, Remus!" before disappearing through the portrait hole.

As Alice turned the corner into the last small hallway, she looked around. The hall was lit only by a few torches hung on the wall. The chairs were of faded red leather on wooden frames; behind that was the statue Alice assumed was Gregory the Smarmy. Everything was covered in a thick blanket of dust.

Notably, the hallway was empty. As it was very small and did not extend much past the statue, if Sam were there, she'd have seen him.

"Samuel Trent!" she hissed, making her way to the statue. It was late - she was knackered, there was homework to be done and no time for games. Alice turned to leave the corridor when she heard a low grumble, the scraping of stone being dragged across stone. She turned just in time to see the statue settling into place, revealing a small entrance hole at the ground behind the statue. The entrance was about a meter high and only wide enough to squeeze through on hands and knees. Sam popped his head out of the entrance, his smile lighting up the dark corridor.

"You called?" Alice didn't answer, petrified by wary excitement. "Neat, isn't it? I thought you'd like it. Here, climb in."

Sam held out a hand, still kneeling in the passageway's entrance. Alice slowly came to, and sluggishly shook her head. "Sam, this is - this is incredible, but I'm sorry, there's no way..."

"Of course there is!" he offered his hand again insistently. "Look, you clearly need a break . . . you've been studying too hard lately and I can't allow that. It's only the first month of school - where would my conscience be if I didn't at least attempt to drag you away from your studies before you go and off yourself?" The warmth in his green eyes and the light of the torches dancing playfully on his gold hair made him hard to deny. He smiled with just the hint of a smirk, like he knew she couldn't say 'no'.

Finally, Alice nodded, shooting a glance behind her to make sure no prefects, professors, or poltergeists were rounding the corner, ready to catch them disappearing into the wall. She knelt down and crawled into the entrance. Immediately, the statue began to shift back into place and Alice could hear Gregory grumbling about students waking him up for their shenanigans. She turned her attention back to the tunnel and realized by the light from Sam's wand that she was staring at his shins.

Looking up, Alice was surprised to find the tunnel much taller and wider than the entrance. She stood up and was glad, for once, to be so short - at about the height of Sam's shoulder, Alice could fit quite comfortably in the passageway while Sam had to bend his head down to avoid scraping it on the ceiling above.

"Where exactly does this tunnel take us?" Alice asked, though she had a guess. She shoved her hand into her pocket and lightly grasped her wand in case there were any surprises up ahead.

"Well, if memory serves, this should take us to Hogsmeade. Last term, I caught a glimpse of a rather odd map Sirius and James had out. They were arguing over something or another, and from my bed I could only see the back side of the map. It didn't take me long to figure out the map was of Hogwarts, and I saw 'To Hogsmeade' written above this statue labeled Gregory the Smarmy. I asked around, figured out where it was, and it only took a short conversation with the stony grump to figure out that he concealed a secret passageway to Hogsmeade." Sam grunted as he bent down further; the tunnel was carved roughly out of the earth, and the ceiling was at times shorter or taller than where they had started walking.

"So, you've never actually been down this," Alice guessed, her fingers tightening around her wand. "You have no idea where this will come out."

Sam's voice was a touch sheepish as he admitted, "Well, no."

"I see."

They continued down the tunnel. Luckily, there were no forks or off-shoots, and Alice speculated aloud that it was probably meant as a quick escape route from the school. "Or to it," Sam offered, his voice heavier.

Alice was silent. Sam was a Muggleborn, and though it was hardly discussed in mixed company, everyone knew that Lord Voldemort - the upstart dark wizard - and his Death Eaters were targeting Muggles and Muggleborn wizards. In fact, that morning the Daily Prophet reported that a Muggle family had been slaughtered by masked attackers and a strange symbol, a skull with a snake emerging from its mouth, branded into their chests with dark magic. For some, Hogwarts felt like the safest place to be during these last few months. The public had been assured the situation was being handled by the Ministry, but many were not so sure.

Finally, Sam and Alice reached the end of the tunnel. The only way out was through a small door, nearly the same size as the entrance behind Gregory the Smarmy. Sam and Alice exchanged a concerned glance.

"Can you hear anything on the other side?" Alice whispered.

As it turned out, they needn't have worried at all. After attempting to hear any voices on the other side of the small door, Sam and Alice eventually pushed against the exit to reveal a particularly spectacular view of the landscape and of Hogwarts silhouetted in the moonlight. They climbed out of the tunnel, which brought them out upon a small hillside, and enjoyed the view for a moment before Sam turned around and grinned. Alice, noticing his expression, followed his gaze.

Hogsmeade was lit up behind them. The charming village was a short walk away, and Sam offered Alice his arm. Blushing, she threaded her arm through his, and they were off.

"The summer was great . . . my family and I spent some time in Italy before it was time to come home." Sam and Alice walked arm-in-arm past several shops that were dark and deserted, having been closed for the night. Alice transfigured their school uniforms into non-descript everyday robes; though Hogwarts students sneaking out for the night wasn't especially uncommon, it was still against school rules, so if anyone caught them off school grounds - especially at night - they would likely receive detention.

The night was cold and crisp. The moon high above them was almost full, its light reflecting off the dark windows of the closed shops. A stray cat pranced across the street and disappeared into the shadows.

"That sounds fantastic . . . I've never been to Italy," Alice said. "My family always goes to France whenever we visit the continent." They were making their way toward the Three Broomsticks, one of the only establishments in town open at nearly midnight. The empty streets were quiet as a monastery until the doors of the Three Broomsticks opened; the air filled with loud bursts of laughter, booming crashes which could be anything from glasses dropping or a bar fight between patrons, and most of all, gay, raucous music. By day, the Three Broomsticks was a respectable bar and restaurant for all the towns inhabitants, but the dark hours of the night were reserved for only Hogsmeade's wildest debauchers.

Much to the two Gryffindors' delight, the regular barman - an irritable, but well-meaning old man named John Robbins - had been replaced by his grand-daughter, a young beautiful woman that both the students knew quite well and recognized immediately.

"Rosmerta!" Alice exclaimed, rushing to the bar. The woman sporting a head of blonde curls turned, laughing, and rested her eyes on her two old housemates.

"And what exactly are you two doing out at this time of night?" Rosmerta squealed, rushing out from behind the bar, arms outstretched. Rosie Robbins had graduated alongside Alice's older brother, Michael, and her friends Frank and Alice Longbottom. "You're supposed to be in bed!" She hugged both Alice and Sam in turn and guided them to the bar. Nothing about her tone or demeanor suggested they were in any danger of being turned in to the Headmaster.

Before Alice could reply, Rosmerta chided, "McGonagall will have your heads if she hears you're out. What'll you have? It's on me. How have you two been? How are classes?" Rosmerta chattered away while pouring two rather large steins of the finest butterbeer on tap.

Sam and Alice laughed, taking the proffered drinks, and Sam began to reply, "Well, it's been " "

Rosmerta cut him off. "Oh, bother. Somebody's passed out again. I'll have to catch up with you two later. Come in again soon, yeah?" Rosmerta leaned across the bar to plant a swift kiss on each of their cheeks before disappearing into the crowded tavern.

"Wish we could have chatted longer, though she probably wouldn't have let us get a word in edgewise," Alice chuckled. She took a swig from her butterbeer and returned the conversation to their previous topic. "Have you ever been to Cassis?"

When Sam did not reply, Alice looked up at him and saw he was deeply lost in thought. She followed his gaze to a couple sitting in a booth opposite the bar; two wizards, both of middle age, held hands across the table, leaning in toward each other. By the way they bantered and teased, this was clearly not their first date.

Seeing two wizards together was not unusual for Alice. However, she recalled her Muggle grandfather's reaction upon seeing a similar couple in the market once and jumped to the wizards' defense.

"It's not the same, you know," Alice said slowly. "We don't . . . um, I mean . . . with Muggles it's . . . in the Wizarding world, the prejudice against - you know - wizards being with wizards or witches with witches . . . it doesn't really exist. Well, at least for most people."

Sam finally looked over at her, a small frown on his lips, expression otherwise unreadable. "Oh, no, it's . . . erm, it's not that. Sorry, I was just thinking . . . it's nothing." He smiled reassuringly at Alice, but she noticed his hand clutched tightly around his mug of butterbeer, knuckles white.  
Time flew by with Sam, Alice found. They'd been friends since their first year, but hadn't ever spent much time together on a one-on-one basis. The conversation passed naturally between the two Gryffindors and Alice spent more time laughing that evening than she had in the past week. Rosmerta flitted about the tavern, always busy with one rowdy customer or another, but she always appeared just in time to refill Sam and Alice's butterbeers when they got low.

Finally, Rosmerta shouted above the din, "Bar's closing at half-past!" She turned to Alice. "It's three-twelve. You two'd better get headed back. You'll have classes later."

Picking up their glasses, she left the fifth years no choice but to say their good-byes and make their way through the village to the secret entrance in the hillside.

"I had a great time tonight," Alice said. Sam walked her to the bottom of the girls' staircase, and they paused in companionable silence before Alice whispered, "Thanks for forcing me to have fun against my will."

"My pleasure," Sam replied, voice low. The common room was empty, dying embers from the fireplace softly lighting the walls and furniture. "Anytime."

They stood there for a moment, both unwilling to let the evening officially come to a close. Alice looked up at Sam, and as the reddish hue from the fireplace painted a glow on his skin, she couldn't help but lean in for a kiss. If Sam was surprised, he didn't show it. Instead, his eyelids fluttered as he dipped his head, cupping the back of her head in his hand.

Their lips touched for only a moment before Sam pulled away, blushing furiously. "What am I doing . . . I'm sorry, Alice. You know I love you, but I can't." His hand pulled away from hers and ran through his hair nervously, a habit she guessed he'd picked up from living with Potter for four years.

Suddenly, Alice remembered. "Right - Nathara. I heard you talking before you saw me." Her blush matched Sam's as she explained in a rush, "I wasn't eavesdropping, I just - "

Sam cut her off. "Alice, it's fine." The perpetual laugh in his eyes returned as he grinned down at her, completely composed. "We've got to get to bed. Separately." He winked, and planted a kiss on Alice's cheek. "Goodnight."

He stood there for a moment until Alice realized he was waiting for her to ascend the girls' staircase. Muggle formalities, she recalled from stories her grandfather had told her. _Ladies first._ She waved shyly before making her way up to bed.


End file.
